Part 10 (2/2)

”Now, Janet, love, don't tease me. How could I, dear?”

”Well, then, you might have written. A whole week away and not a line.”

”Gently, my own darling, judge, guide, and counsellor in one,” he cried warmly. ”I might have written, and ought to have written, but I have been, oh so busy all day, and when I got back to quarters, there was the Major to talk to me, and I could not slight Miss Gurdon.”

”The Major--Miss Gurdon? May I ask who these people are?”

”Oh, a very jolly old sort of fellow, who lives close to the mine, with an only daughter. He insisted upon my staying there while I was down, and I wasn't sorry; for--O Janet! let me whisper it in your lovely little sh.e.l.l of an ear,” he continued playfully--”the miner's cottage I slept at one night was not comfortable; it was grubby, and oh, those fleas! If it had not been for my stout walking-stick--”

”What sort of a person is Miss Gurdon?” said Janet, interrupting him quickly.

”Oh, very nice and ladylike.”

”Pretty?”

”Pretty! Well, you would hardly call it pretty. A sad, pensive face, very sweet and delicate, and with the look of one who had known trouble.

There seemed to be some secret about father and daughter.”

”Oh!” said Janet softly, and the colour came into her cheeks very warmly. ”And you were very comfortable there?”

”Yes, very,” said Clive emphatically.

”Too comfortable to remember me and write, of course.”

”O Janet, my darling!” he said tenderly, as he pa.s.sed his arm about her waist, ”how can you be such a jealous little thing! As if I could think of any one but you. You were with me night and day. It was always what is Janet doing? how does she look? and is she thinking of me? Whether I was scrambling about down in the mine like a mud-lark, or more decent and talking to Miss Gurdon of an evening in their tiny drawing-room.”

”About me, of course,” said Janet coldly.

”No, dear,” said Clive innocently, ”I never mentioned your name. I dared not, pet, for fear they should laugh at me, and think what a great goose I was. For I am, pet. Once I begin talking to any one about you, I can't leave off.”

”Indeed!” she said sarcastically.

”Why, Janet, dear,” he said earnestly, and he tried to take her hand, ”what have I said or done? Surely you don't think--Oh, my love, my dear love!” he cried, with his voice growing deep and earnest, ”how can you be so ready to take pique over such trifles! Janet, I love you with all my heart, dear. I have not a thought that is not for my own darling.”

”No, no; don't touch me,” she panted, as he drew her towards him.

”I will--I will, darling wifie to be; but you must master these little bits of uncalled-for jealousy, dear. They are not fair to me, and next time I am away I will at any cost write to you, even if the business fails, and--”

”Scoundrel! ruffian! how dare you put your arm around my daughter, sir?

She is not your wife yet.”

The words came so fiercely and suddenly that Clive started away, and Janet hurriedly escaped to the other side of the chair. For the Doctor had bustled in just as Clive was trying to take the kiss withheld from him, and now stood there with a terrific frown upon his heavy grey brow.

The next moment he had burst into a hearty roar of laughter.

”Nice guilty pair you look,” he cried. ”Ah! you may well turn red, you unblus.h.i.+ng puss! Eh? No, that won't do, it's a bull. And you, sir, how dare--Well, how are you, Clive, my boy? Came round here first, eh?

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